


Prisoners of the Past

by shadeshifter



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Post-Trenzalore, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:36:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6872488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadeshifter/pseuds/shadeshifter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's been gone for a very long time and things have changed a great deal. Not least of all him. What hasn't changed is the name of his soulmate, writ across his skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first real attempt at Doctor Who fic, so we'll see how it goes :)

Jack stumbled against the TARDIS console as the ship rocked. He winced as the movement jostled his ribs.

“Come on, girl,” Jack said, stroking the smooth metal. “I know things are complicated at the moment.” He very determinedly didn’t look at the body only a few feet away, red robes stained an even deeper crimson. “But I could really use your help.”

This ship didn't have the twisting organic look of the Doctor’s TARDIS; it was all smooth white lines, holographic displays and utilitarian keyboards. She was beautiful, but he couldn’t help but miss the whimsical design of the Doctor’s ship, the first TARDIS he'd ever known.

The TARDIS seemed to hum at him and he felt a faint prickle in the back of his mind indicating what he hoped was agreement. He stumbled again, barely catching himself on the railing as the ship hurtled through the void. She wheezed in something that might have been pain and he sank down to the metal grating, unable to hold himself up any longer.

“I know you can do it,” he said, voice fading as he poured everything of his that he could into her; what strength he had, the factness of him that bent the universe around him.

He pressed a hand to his side, trying to stem the flow of blood even though he knew it was useless. He was going to die, he knew, but he couldn’t, not until he knew he had succeeded. Not when failure was the most likely outcome and success seemed like an impossible thing. He had to make sure. The TARDIS pushed something that felt like encouragement at him and then there was a sensation like his ears popping, only it seemed to happen to his every molecule.

“You beautiful, wonderful girl,” he murmured as the ship stabilised. 

He dragged himself back to the console and levered himself up, leaving bloody handprints. He sent an absent apology as he looked over the readings. A sob of exhaustion and frustration tried to work its way out of his throat, but he swallowed hard and then again. He was in Leadworth. Nowhere near where he needed to be. 

“The Doctor,” he told her. “I need to find the Doctor.”

He dropped to his knees, blood flowing freely from his wound. Death was at his shoulder like an old friend, but he still had things he needed to do and he couldn’t stop just yet. The TARDIS wheezed again and he knew she didn’t have the energy to make another trip just yet, not as far as he needed to go. She needed to recharge.

“It’s okay,” he assured her softly, words cut off by a cough that spotted his lips with blood. “You did more than I could have dreamed of.”

He closed his eyes, feeling everything slipping from him even as he scrambled to hold onto it. No matter how many times he died, it was still awful and jarring and desolate. The sound of her dematerialising reached him as if from a great distance. For a long moment, there was silence. Finally the door opened and he heard footsteps and then a gasp.

“Doct’r,” he slurred.

“Jack,” a woman’s voice said. It sounded familiar but from so long ago. “Captain Jack Harkness. I remember you.”

Martha Jones, he thought, and let himself go.


	2. Chapter 2

Martha froze when she heard a sound she hadn’t heard in years. It cut through all the background noise of neighbours and dogs and traffic. It took her a long moment to remember to breathe. 

“Mickey,” she yelled. 

She could hear him running down the stairs as she opened the back door. The blue police box she was expecting wasn’t there. Instead, there was a second garden shed. She hesitated, waiting for Mickey to join her at her side. They looked at each other and she raised an eyebrow. He grinned and together they approached the structure. Pausing on one side of the door, she nodded to Mickey, who pushed the door open and looked the inside over before entering. Martha entered after him, scanning the unfamiliar console room before she noticed a man on the ground. She rushed over, thinking it was the Doctor, before the face tugged at something in her memory.

“Jack,” Martha said, astonished. “Captain Jack Harkness. I remember you.” He went limp and she looked away, turning to Mickey. “How could I forget him?”

The Year That Never Was had changed her irrevocably and tied her to both Jack and the Doctor in some fundamental way she still wasn’t sure she understood. She couldn’t believe that until this moment she’d forgotten him completely; there wasn't even an inkling of a memory of him. She checked for a pulse automatically but wasn’t too surprised not to find one. Still, no matter that she was sure he would revive, had seen him do it before they even met properly, she couldn’t help the faint feeling of concern

“I don’t know,” Mickey told her, frowning before shaking his head. “But who’s the other guy?”

Martha reluctantly pulled herself away from Jack to check the pulse of the other man. She found nothing. She wasn’t sure she recognised the elaborate robes either though something about them, the style or cut possibly, tickled at her memory. Even Jack was wearing a simpler, black version and she couldn’t deny that it suited him, much like his old overcoat had. She shook her head, Jack’s presence filled up a room, sometimes she thought it was bigger than life and time itself, and now that she’d remembered she couldn’t begin to imagine forgetting him. Jack still hadn’t revived and she watched him worriedly.

“Maybe we should get him inside?” Mickey suggested, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in close. 

“You’re right,” she said, feeling better with something to do, but she still took a moment to draw comfort from him. Finally, she pulled away. “Come on.”

Mickey went to grab Jack’s shoulders and Martha grabbed his feet so they could carry him inside. She really hoped none of the neighbours happened to catch them. They already had enough trouble trying to explain their activities and the occasional alien that followed them home. She loved working for UNIT and knew Mickey did too, but it didn’t exactly lead to a simple life.

They dropped Jack on the couch, a little too hard, but he was heavy and wouldn’t feel it anyway. Relief rushed through her when Jack finally gasped. He was sitting up and trying to stand before he’d even caught his breath. She stepped forward, hands placating, but didn’t quite touch him.

“It’s okay, Jack,” she assured him. “You’re safe.”

Jack looked around wildly for a moment before his gaze settled on her and he finally calmed, leaning on the back of the couch to hold himself up. He looked very out of place in his bloody black robes, but he’d always seemed slightly out of time to her, both ahead and behind all at once. 

“Martha Jones,” Jack said with a smile and, while he did seemed genuinely pleased to see her, the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. She was reminded of the aftermath of the Year That Never Was, of them both being strong because the Doctor needed them. Because they were all grieving in their own ways, but the Doctor was the only one who had tangible evidence of that grief, even if it was the body of a madman who’d tortured them and destroyed the world.

“Jack,” she said, stepping forward to hug him. He hugged her back automatically, but it wasn’t the loose-limbed all-encompassing hug she remembered. Jack was stiff in her arms and she could feel the muscles corded, coiled and ready, under her hands.

“It’s good to see you, Martha,” he told her when she pulled back. He was still smiling, but this time it was softer, more genuine, and she smiled back. “And Mickey.”

“Captain,” Mickey greeted with a nod.

“What happened?” she asked, sitting down and hoping Jack would follow. She knew his body reset at death, but he still looked not entirely steady on his feet. He did and she glanced at Mickey, raising an eyebrow. Mickey nodded and left the room.

“I was looking for the Doctor.” His expression was wry and just a little too bitter for the Jack she remembered and he’d already been cynical beneath the flirting and smiles.

“And you found me,” she said, with a faint smirk as she searched his gaze, trying to get him to join in the joke.

“Not exactly the Doctor I was looking for,” Jack admitted. “But I am glad to see you.”

“Why were you flying the TARDIS?” she asked, leaning forward and resting her hand over his. For the first time she noticed there was something around his wrists, too wide to be bracelets, like metal cuffs. He twitched when her fingers brushed one. “And why couldn’t I remember you?”

“It’s a TARDIS, not the TARDIS, and I was on the wrong side of a universe reset.”

Martha took a moment to parse that statement.

“A different TARDIS? How? And what do you mean the universe reset?” 

Her questions followed quickly after each other and Jack smirked, eyes crinkling in amusement at her expense. She was tempted to hit his arm but there was something twitchy and unfamiliar about him and she hesitated. 

“The universe reset,” Jack said, voice carefully bland. “Something the Doctor did, I'm sure. I was left behind.”

“Jack,” she exclaimed, unable to comprehend what that must have been like. He didn’t want her sympathy though. “Is that why I forgot you?”

He nodded, eyes sliding away from hers. He looked haunted, like he’d seen things no living being should. She supposed surviving the end of a universe might qualify.

“How did you get back?” she asked, hoping to make him think of something else.

“The Time Lords. They’re not gone, just... stuck. In a pocket dimension,” he said in the same careful tone. She opened her mouth to question him, but couldn’t get her thoughts ordered enough to think of what to say. “And the Master escaped. I was trying to follow him... her.”

He shook his head at the last, as though he was still getting used to the thought. Martha tensed, unable to help the shiver of fear that trickled down her spine. She’s read the UNIT report that indicated the Master had been dragged back into the time lock the Doctor had put on Gallifrey. Of course the Master had escaped. The Master always escaped. She wished he would die, properly and finally, and they could be free of him. Or her. Whatever the Master was now.

“She has plans for the Doctor, she always has plans for the Doctor. I need to warn him,” Jack said.

She wondered how long it had been for him, how long had he been pining after the Doctor. It must have been centuries, millenia even. She remembered the conversation they’d had, about loving the Doctor, and was glad that she’d realised that she might love the Doctor but it had never been in that way. Mickey took that spot in her life now and he meant everything to her. She rubbed absently at Mickey's name, curled around her wrist. She hadn't thought she'd ever find him, but she had because of the Doctor.

“You’ll find him,” she assured him. If there was anyone who could find the Doctor by sheer force of will it was Jack.

“Sandwich?” Mickey asked, offering a plate to Jack. Jack nodded, already taking a bite of one of the thick cheese sandwiches. He closed his eyes and exhaled noisily, as though they were the best thing he’d eaten in some time. Martha and Mickey exchanging worried looks. 

“Jack,” she began and trailed off, not sure how to ask what she wanted to.

“I don’t suppose you have anything I could borrow to wear?” Jack asked, forestalling the questions. 

“I’ll go see what I can find,” Mickey said quickly, leaving the room again.

Jack shrugged out of the robe, revealing a black tunic and pants underneath. There was an awful hole blasted in the side of the tunic, but beneath it was unmarked skin. More questions sat at the tip of her tongue, but she held them back. Mickey returned a moment later with some sweat pants and a T-shirt. Jack stripped off to his underwear unself-consciously and wiped at the blood that was drying on his skin with the ruined tunic. Martha took a moment to admire him before she noticed the tattoos all over his body. It took a moment for her to realise they were names, every one of them.

‘Oncoming Storm’ was written across a shoulder blade. ‘Timelord Victorious’ dipped into his lower back. 

“Jack,” she said, voice breaking on the name. He looked up, startled, and turned toward her. ‘Doctor’ crested his hip and over his heart was a series of concentric circles and lines. In the dip of his right elbow were two symbols: ΘΣ. Theta Sigma, she thought and wondered at the significance. She rubbed at the name on her wrist again, her gaze turned unerringly to her husband and they shared a look of understanding. Jack looked down and then frowned.

“I forgot,” he said, pulling the T-shirt over his head. It pulled tight across his broad shoulders. “It’s been so long since I was around anyone who didn’t know.”

“I didn’t realise,” she said, reaching out, wanting to offer him some kind of comfort. Her hand dropped back to her side. He shrugged and smiled, but it didn’t hide the shadows in his eyes. “How long...”

“Since I died and woke up again the first time,” Jack told with a self-deprecating smile as he pulled on the tracksuit pants. “I didn’t have a name until then.”

“Oh Jack.”

“It is what it is,” he said with a shake of his head. She didn’t push any further, knowing that names were a sensitive topic and so was the Doctor. “Thank you for everything, I know I can always count on you.”

“Of course you can, anything you need,” she assured him. He hugged her again, tightly this time and she squeezed back, hoping to give him some strength and comfort. Jack then turned to Mickey and pulled him into a hug as well. Mickey patted him on the back.

“You know that goes for me as well,” Mickey told him. Jack nodded, pulled back and patted Mickey’s cheek.

“Treat each other well,” Jack told them with an air of finality. 

“We could come with you,” Martha offered and Mickey nodded automatically. 

“Not this time.”

Jack straightened his shoulders and raised his chin. The robes had looked more impressive, but even in sweatpants and T-shirt, Jack looked like he was marching off to war and like he expected to win. Martha sighed at his answer, but hadn’t really expected anything different. 

“You’d better come visit,” she warned him.

“I will,” he said, glancing at her with sincere smile.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Martha told him as he walked out of the house. A moment later she heard the TARDIS dematerialise.

Mickey came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She held onto his arms and leaned back into him.

“He’ll be okay,” Mickey told her.

“I know.” And he would be, she was sure, if only because he had no other choice.


End file.
